


Merlin drabbles: boyslash (and shippy boy gen)

by sophinisba



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: 1000-5000 Words, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Community: camelot_fleet, Community: writing_game, Double Drabble, Drabble, Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-05
Updated: 2009-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophinisba/pseuds/sophinisba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of short Merlin ficlets, mostly PG-rated Arthur/Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For slightlytookish's prompt "Merlin, Arthur, trapped".

It's a dance they do. It's a list of words they avoid saying aloud, that's growing longer every day. The more they practice the easier it is to be close without touching deep, the harder to take a step outside, to say, "I want," "I once," "I am," "I know."

Ealdor was unexpected, a stumble, almost enough to make them break free, but not quite. On the road home they both half hope they'll be caught, trapped, with no escape but by magic. Instead they return to Camelot, trapped in the dance of a day like every other day before.


	2. Supposed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the writing_game prompts "scarf/scary/kiss".

Sorcerers are supposed to be scary, even if they look sweet and innocent, and no matter what he feels Arthur ought to put it aside and act – restrain, gag, light the fires – before the sorcerer can put some spell on him. But he can't be scared because – never mind the eyes and the hand and the objects flying about the room – it's Merlin. Merlin with his ugly red scarf and his too-long neck and his trembling lips, and all Arthur wants to do is kiss him. Maybe he's under a spell already. If so, he can't bring himself to care.


	3. Insufferable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hitchhiker AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the writing_game prompts "Common Knowledge, Insufferable, Hitchhike".

Merlin had been at this long enough to know what to expect. If anyone stopped it would be a trucker, some middle-aged guy, big and careful enough not to be worried. The cab would smell like sweat and diesel and air freshener. The radio would be playing breakup songs or Jesus talk. If he was lucky, the ride would take him a hundred miles closer to Camelot.

So if that red convertible was slowing down, it was only because the driver wanted a better look at the freak before he breezed by. He wasn't actually stopping.

(Except that he was.)

*

"You shouldn't be doing this, you know," said the guy, who smelled like soap and money and would be gorgeous, Merlin thought, if he'd take off those stupid shades. Merlin glared, but the guy wasn't looking at him. "Everyone knows it's not safe. I could've been a serial killer, for God's sake."

"Nah, just an insufferable prick," said Merlin, because fuck Camelot, he wasn't going to sit here and let this spoiled brat lecture him about safety. The guy could leave him by the side of the road if he wanted to.

Except he didn't. Just sighed and kept driving.


	4. The Deadline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newspaper AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the writing_game prompt "deadline".

"Go take a goddamn shower, will you?" Arthur says affectionately, because even though he knows it's no good for Merlin's health or the quality of his writing, there's something very appealing about the look of him when he's stayed up all night working to a deadline. A vulnerability that shouldn't be nearly this attractive in a grown man.

"Had a call last night," Merlin mumbles, "the Tom Smith case. Had to go out and interview this… Tauren, the one with the..."

Arthur nods as if he understood.

"Just got back an hour ago and had to rewrite the whole…" He trails off and squints at his computer screen.

"But it's done now?"

Merlin nods. "Sent."

"Good. Come on then, come with me."

Other people (Arthur) work efficiently and during the hours when they can be most efficient. Other people go home and get eight hours' sleep, a shower and a shave and a good breakfast. Other people need to take care of Merlin when he's so caffeinated he can barely type, tripping over his own feet on his way across the room. Arthur finds, steadying his friend with a hand at his back, that he doesn't particularly mind this arrangement.


	5. Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The surfer AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the writing_game prompts "Wet Suit, Ravenous, Yearn"

"And hurry up, I'm starving," says the British guy, in the manner of someone who's never gone to bed hungry in his life.

"No problem, right away," says Merlin. He feels like adding "sir" but knows that wouldn't go over well, so he smiles instead, aiming to convey friendly, laid-back obedience and efficiency. These surfers like to lord it over the locals, but if you call them on it _you're_ the one who's uncool. He takes the rest of their orders and heads back to the kitchen, swearing under his breath and resolving once again to study hard, save his money, and move the hell away from the best beach in Australia.

Merlin's been talked down to by tourists for as long as he can remember, and most of the time it doesn't bother him. It only gets difficult when they're as goddamn beautiful and oblivious as the blond boy in the red wetsuit.

When Merlin brings their food they dig in without looking at him. They stay for an hour. They show their respect for Australian customs by failing to tip. When they start back toward the beach Merlin just stands there, watching, wishing he was one of them.


	6. As a Token

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Mia's prompt "flowers" at a camelot_fleet party.

After all Lancelot's talk about honour and sacrifice and proving himself worthy, Arthur thought before he came back to Camelot he would have rescued a village – or perhaps an entire country – from some monster or other. And it would have to be a particularly large and fearsome one, if the gryphon hadn't been enough for him.

But the man kneeling before him was not holding up a dragon's head, only a bunch of forget-me-nots.

"As a token of my respect and esteem."

"For the lady Guinevere?"

"No, sire." Lancelot looked up, surprised. "I learned no one had brought you any, and surely every man and woman, be they a servant or a king, deserves to be given flowers.

"Ah." Arthur looked around, but he couldn't see Merlin, and there wasn't anyone else he really wanted to glare at. He took the flowers. "Does this mean you're ready to be a knight?"

Lancelot bowed his head. "I have not yet accomplished–"

"You've brought joy to the heart of your king in a way no one else has. Let that be enough." He tugged at his old friend's arm, saying, "Rise, sir Lancelot," and thanked him with a kiss the lips.


	7. How Easy It Could Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Merlin go camping - canon futurefic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For slightlytookish's prompt "rain" at a camelot_fleet party.

If he needed to, Arthur knew, Merlin could stop the rain. If Arthur needed him to, if Arthur _asked_, Merlin could stop time, bend the shape of the universe, bring them back to the castle in three steps.

But Merlin was tired, and there was no great or urgent need to get back. Together they pitched a tent. With a whispered word and a finger drawn along the seam, Merlin sealed out the wet, kept their warmth inside. They kissed to the sound of the rain, laughed through the thunder, and slept through the night. All Arthur needed was this.


End file.
